


Re-examine

by Tahlruil



Series: Rebirth [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Companion Piece, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst and Humor, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outtakes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rating will change, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-07 20:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12848493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: A collection of vignettes, outtakes, character studies and smutty encounters that take place during, just before or just after my fic 'Repair and Reconnect'.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is the fic that'll have stuff from [Repair and Reconnect](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11467125/chapters/25710312); they almost certainly won't make sense if you don't read that first.
> 
> I'll try to indicate when in the timeline each chapter takes place within the context of the main fic so that even if I jump around it'll still make sense. <3 You can always feel free to ask questions and such too, or even request a scene you might like to see!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Steve watched Tony tapping away at the thing he called a phone, occasionally letting out a curse that woulda had his ma reaching for her bible and maybe calling a priest for a baptism or exorcism to drive the devil out. The more he watched, the more he was convinced the thing couldn't possibly be a phone. Except he'd seen Tony make that one call on it and had heard him talking to some woman named Nat (who he still preemptively didn't like), so it had to be a phone. The future was a weird place, and he hoped the one in his world wouldn't be so confusing.

"... hey Tony?"

"What's up?"

"I... uh... what'?" Tony gave a heaving sigh and finally tore his gaze away from his 'phone'. They were bloodshot and largely empty; the only hint of emotion Steve saw was exhaustion.

"It's an expression. It boils down to 'what do you want'. So what do you want?"

"Oh." Steve squirmed a little in his shockingly comfortable armchair, wondering if maybe he shouldn't have just held his tongue. He'd been given a pad of paper that was clearly for technical drawings with all it's little boxes along with a pencil - it should be enough to occupy him. It was just that he was sorta interested in learning more about the place - time? - that he'd found himself in, and Tony was clearly an expert. But he was mourning the loss of JARVIS still, and also obviously depressed, so Steve thought he probably shouldn't bother the man. Even if he was starting to get bored and kind of hungry, he should just let Tony be. It wasn't the time to push yet. "Never mind. Sorry for botherin' ya." Another squirm and then he directed his attention back to his lap, putting pencil to paper. 

All those boxes demanded rigidity and structure though, and he wanted to draw something loose. Instead of fighting with the medium, he idly blocked out some basic shapes, muscle memory taking over enough that he could watch Tony from the corner of his eye. The other man had stared at him for a few seconds before going back to his phone, but now he seemed as aware of Steve as Steve was of him. Every few taps, he paused and looked back up for a few heartbeats before directing his gaze down and starting his fingers up again. It made trying to draw even harder, but he tried not to let Tony know that he knew he was watching.

He couldn't stop the bored, distracted squirming though.

"Oh my fucking- come here," Tony demanded, and Steve had never dropped anything as expensive as drawing paper so fast in his life. He was up off his seat and plopped back down next to the other man just as quick - a little too quick, 'cause he felt his lungs struggling for breath a little. Not enough to warrant pulling that fancy, newfangled device called an 'inhaler' out of his pocket, but enough that he really oughta stay put for a bit. It had been three days since he'd woken up in the future with Tony's arm draped over his waist, and it had been just as many days since Tony had showered. That faint, sour odor was back, but Steve hadn't had the heart to prod the man to the bathroom yet. "Castle or zoo?"

"I... what?" Half the time it was like Tony was speaking a language he only half-knew. At least this time Tony looked a little amused by his ignorance.

"Do you want to build a castle or a zoo?"

"Uhm..."

"In a game, Tiny Adorable Steve. You're bored, that's clearly the wrong kind of paper, and your stomach is probably going to start yelling soon. So I'm going to go heat you up something and leave you with a video game to keep you occupied."

"Ya mean make the both-a us somethin', don'tcha?" he couldn't help but ask, frowning up at his benefactor. "I don't remember ya eatin' lunch either'n ya gotta have more'n just a handful-a them dorito things, Tony."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well then I ain't either." It was a dirty trick and he knew it - Tony did too from the way he immediately started glaring. Steve didn't mind so much though, not when he knew Tony really did need to eat and that the other man would crack first. He seemed pretty keen on making sure Steve was taken care of, after all... and Steve had gone hungrier longer for worse reasons. Tony kept glaring, and Steve crossed his arms over his chest before sinking back into the couch like he didn't have a care in the world.

That seemed to really irritate Tony, and it was sorta hard not to smirk when the man's glare turned to a downright glower. "Tiny. Adorable. Steve."

"Yeah?"

"You can't make me eat."

"Can't make me either, can ya?"

"... I dislike you."

"Do not."

"I'm not hungry!"

"I ain't arguin' with ya, am I?"

"Little bit."

"Nah. Just sayin' that I ain't hungry either. I can wait ta eat until you're ready ta do the same."

"Manipulative little bastard." Scenting victory, Steve grinned and uncrossed his arms before pressing a hand to his heart.

"Aww, see? I knew ya liked me."

"Fucking Christ... fine. Fine." Tony announced as he threw his hands up into the air. Steve was surprised he didn't lose hold of that phone from how dramatic the move was. "I'm suddenly starving."

"Isn't that somethin'? 'N I wanna build a castle."

"Not sure you deserve a castle, you little shit," Tony grumbled. Steve might have been worried he'd gone too far, except that Tony was already exiting whatever... game he'd been playing and was setting one up for him. At least, he was pretty sure that was what was going on - the screen was a little hard to see, between the angle, the brightness of it and his shitty eyesight. Squinting, he drifted closer to try and get a better idea of what was going on. Tony didn't object, not even when they were shoulder to shoulder and Steve's head had to be in the way of _him_ seeing the whole screen. Sure enough though, there were words marching across the screen declaring him a monarch of his own country - he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. Maybe he should have built a zoo instead.

Except the pictures were _beautiful_ and not like anything he'd ever seen before. He felt his jaw drop and his eyes go wide, and he reached out for the thing that really couldn't be a phone with trembling hands. "Tony-"

"Pretty cool, huh?" He sounded amused and proud again, and Steve didn't miss the dead quality of his voice one little bit. "Okay. So hold it like this-" Tony passed the phone over, then covered Steve's hands to guide him. He couldn't help the way he kinda froze or keep himself from taking in a sharp breath at the move any more than he could have kept his heart from starting to gallop in his chest. Tony's hands were warm and calloused as they covered his completely. Steve gulped and wished he wasn't quite so fair-skinned, because he knew he was turning bright red. "There we go. The screen has sensors in it, so you just touch it to do whatever the game tells you, okay? Looks like you've got an adviser named 'Reginald' - very medieval name, I approve," he added a touch too close to Steve's ear, making him shiver a little, though he also chuckled quietly. "Can you read it from there, or-"

"Need it a little closer," he admitted, not surprised even a little when Tony immediately lifted his hands (and Steve's by default) upward until he made a little noise of pleasure when the words came into sharp focus. Steve tried to ignore the way Tony was basically hugging him in favor of reading along. "So when I finish readin'-"

"Tap where it says 'next'. Good, but you don't have to hit it so hard."

"Sorry," Steve mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat again.

"Hey, no, it's okay - don't worry about it. StarkPhones can put up with a lot of abuse, you're not going to break it. Just trying to help you learn. You shouldn't... you don't have to be embarrassed when you don't know things, alright? I'm not going to make fun of you or anything. I know that you're still figuring it all out, and I'm not making fun of you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So let me know if you have any questions, okay?" Steve sort of had a question or two about the way Tony was sweeping his left thumb over Steve's knuckles, but he didn't think that was what Tony had meant. Besides, it was nice that he was easing into touching and being touched, so Steve wasn't about to be a big dummy and ruin it by calling attention to it.

"I will," he promised instead, focusing his attention fully on the screen. Tony left Steve's hands cold after removing his, but it was fine - nothing he wasn't used to, and it was warmer here than his apartment anyhow. He got lost in following Reginald's directions, eyes drinking in all the little details and the _colors_. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, except for movies and that only kinda. Even if he wasn't very clear on why he was building a castle - shouldn't there have already been one? why had the last king let things go so badly? - he wanted to keep playing just for the joy of unlocking new and fascinating little decorations and portraits of the people helping him.

In the end, Tony had to pretty much shove a plate of reheated... something under his nose just to get his attention. Steve was promptly horrified at both himself and this century - who the hell made things so entertaining you _forgot to eat_? He dropped the phone and recoiled like it was a striking snake, only just resisting the urge to swear out loud. When he turned wide eyes back to Tony, the man was trying and failing not to smile. If the way his shoulders were shaking was any clue, he was having a little more success at holding a laugh in.

"'S not even a real castle, Tony," he breathed, voice sounding haunted to his own ears.

"I know."

"I ignored _food_." 

"You did," Tony agreed gleefully. "Not long enough that it went cold though, thanks to my intervention." He pressed the warm plate into his hands, and Steve could see now that it was the rest of the pasta dish Tony had ordered the day before - Tony had the other half of his food from that night. When he looked back up, ready to ask, Tony beat him to it. "I could tell you wanted to taste mine, and yours had to be pretty good too, from the way you went on... and on... and on about it. So eat up, Tiny Adorable Steve." His skin prickled with a warm flush, and he reminded himself that he was _not_ going to be attracted to his host.

"Thanks, Tony. But stop callin' me that or I'll pop ya one in the kisser."

"I could take you. ... maybe. In the suit. I definitely could in the suit." Steve was pretty damned sure Tony could take him in or out of a tux - not that he had any idea what a 'suit' like that had to do with fighting - but he just laughed instead of calling the man on his bull. "Now eat." Tony settled beside him again, close enough that their arms and knees were brushing, and it was still pretty darn nice. He missed Arnie's arm slung over his shoulders, missed all the other casual, reassuring touches... but maybe not getting all of that from Tony was better.

From Tony it would all probably _feel_ a lot better, but he was not going to let himself think perverted thoughts about the man giving him food and shelter. It was just plain wrong.

Steve was mostly done himself when Tony sighed and put his plate down on the coffee table. There was still some left, but it wasn't a lot, so he decided to go back to his whole 'not pushing' tactic. "Do you think you want to keep building your castle, or should I take the game off my phone so you don't give in to temptation?"

He should have said 'take it off the damned thing' right away, he knew that. Instead, Steve hesitated. There was still so much left to do, and he was so close to unlocking what the game called 'quests' where he might even be able to rescue the princess, and - and he could hear Tony laughing again.

"I know that look in your eyes - you're hooked. Okay, how about this. We can do a timer or something. So you can tell me how many times a day you want to check in and for how long each time, and I can set a timer on my phone for you that'll go off and remind you to quit. Sound like a good idea?"

"Ya really could set a timer? 'Cause I don't like the idea-a spendin' all-a my time starin' at that little screen. No matter how good my castle looks."

"It does look impressive," Tony granted, making Steve grin. "You've got an eye for color and placing things - when I play games like that everything quickly turns into a mess." It was hard to resist the urge to offer to help Tony fix up all his little fake worlds, but he managed. He probably shouldn't have been as proud of that as he was. "Not surprised though - you are an artist."

"Sorta. Don't know that I make enough doin' it ta call me an 'artist'."

"Pffft. You don't need to get paid to do it in order to be one. I know you like to draw, and you probably like to paint and shit too."

"Don't paint much, now that I'm outta school," he murmured, hating the wistful tone of his own voice. "Paints'n such are too expensive when I'm only doin' it for fun. I did like it though. And sculptin' - always wished I could-a done more with sculptin' in class. But it's hard enough convincin' myself ta waste money on paper'n pencils, and I get paid for some-a the stuff I do with those."

For a long moment, silence reigned and Steve started kicking himself. He hadn't meant to go on like that - his life wasn't some sob-story he needed to tell in order to get people to feel bad for him. He didn't need anyone's pity, and the thought that Tony might feel that way now set a fire burning in his belly that wasn't like the usual warmth the man inspired. Ready to spit out harsh words to wipe any expression that looked even remotely like pity, Steve looked up at Tony defiantly... and didn't see anything like it.

Sure, Tony was staring at him and his gaze was pretty darned intense, but pity didn't play any part in it. There was interest in his gaze that swiftly turned to determination - he even jutted his jaw out a little. "I'm going to get you all that stuff," Tony announced, and Steve could have been knocked over with a feather afterwards.

"Tony! No, I didn't - ya don't gotta buy me things," he tried, knowing he sounded flustered and that he was probably blushing again. "That's not why I... ya already gave me paper'n a pencil-"

"Shitty examples of both though - I only use them for technical drawings when my eyes need a break from all the electronic stuff I stare at all the time. They aren't for _art_. I would be an awful fucking host if I didn't give you something to do. I'm already a pretty bad one, so yeah. Buying you art stuff."

"I got stuff ta do!"

"Right. Building a fake castle. Jesus fuck - fine. If that's all you want to do with your day, then fine. Hand over the phone so I can set that timer. Fifteen minutes at a time sound good to you?" Steve was highly suspicious of the easy way Tony gave up, but... well. What was he going to do with a phone? So he did as Tony asked, pressing it into his hands with a shrug.

"Yeah, sounds fine. Things’re startin' ta take longer anyway."

"That's how it works, usually, to tempt you into spending money, which you can feel free to do. I've got a couple of my cards stored in here, so you can-"

"I'm not spendin' real money on a _game_ ," he interrupted, feeling a little scandalized. "It ain't even a game that has real stuff, like baseball or somethin'. It's all fake. People really... ya _really_ buy those little diamond things?"

"Sometimes, for games I like," Tony answered easily with a shrug of one shoulder. He wasn't even looking up from the screen, which Steve found slightly annoying. If 'slightly annoying' meant kind of enraging anyway. "You may not have noticed - I hide it so well, what with the building, phones, tablets and other things named after me - but I'm rich. Rolling in money, Steve. If I wanted I could fill a room with single bills in pretty much any denomination and swim in them. I have so much money. Which is why you can buy shit in your game if you want, and why _I_ just bought a whole bunch of shit from of a couple different art stores in the area. We'll set up a room on this floor, make it into your studio."

Steve knew he should interrupt and tell Tony that he was being ridiculous, but shock had him rooted in place with his mouth hanging open. Hot and cold were washing over his body in waves, and he felt just a little bit faint. Maybe the other man saw that, because he suddenly felt a hand on his back, gently pushing him down until his head was between his knees.

"Breath, Tiny Adorable Steve," Tony urged softly. "Just... breathe, okay? Sorry, I didn't meant to... fuck. I'm always doing it _wrong_ , I should have learned after that fucking rabbit not to... Jesus Christ. I'm sorry. I don't want to cancel the orders, but if you don't want it I can... I don't know, find somewhere to donate it all or something, and I shouldn't have... I tried with Rogers, but he didn't... should have remembered. I thought maybe you might... sorry. Sorry. Fuck."

He wasn't the only one who needed to breathe, Steve realized.

Groping blindly for Tony's other hand, he accidentally brushed over Tony's knee and spared a quick moment to be relieved he hadn't brushed anything else. Once he'd wrapped his fingers around Tony's, he squeezed down in a way that he hoped was reassuring. "Don't gotta... just gimme a minute here Tony. 'N don't forget ta breathe neither, punk."

"I'm breathing just fine, thanks," Tony returned, sounding a little offended.

"Sure ya are. 'M not mad, just... gimme a minute."

"You're not... mad? Oh. Okay. Uh... right. We can both just... breathe then. Right. Okay. Breathing. Simple. Just in and out, easy does it--" Tony cut himself off when Steve squeezed his fingers again, and he heard the other man take a deep breath. Once they'd both had that minute, Steve slowly sat up to avoid getting dizzy and looked over to Tony once he had.

"First off, you're crazy," he started, giving Tony's fingers another gentle squeeze. "Ya can't just go buyin' stuff 'cause I mention it. Ya don't gotta... we're friends, alright?" They'd known each other for a few days, so it was maybe a bit over the top to say they were 'friends', but... Tony reminded him of one of the boys from the old neighborhood, one who had a bit more than most of the rest of them. They'd all been jealous and mean about it, so the kid had just started giving away his stuff, hoping people would like him for it. Steve found himself wondering, for the first time, what had ever happened to Timmy, if he'd ever shaken the habit. "We're friends and you buyin' or not buyin' me stuff isn’t gonna change that."

Tony was blinking at him, looking a bit stunned, and Steve found himself a little pissed off at whoever Tony's other friends were. "Uh. Right. Friends. Yeah. I can work with that. But I... look, I wasn't kidding about the having money part. So why shouldn't I spend it on getting you things like this? Not like I have much else to spend it on."

"Ya could fix up that other floor," he answered, then regretted it when Tony flinched and started to pull away. "Or not. Whatever - 's your tower. Your money too, I guess. Just... I like ya, Tony. Ya didn't need ta spend any money ta get me to do it neither. So just..." Tony's expression was one part joy, one part crushed. Trying to read between the lines was tough - maybe he was used to people only liking him because they bought stuff, but maybe he was also too used to people turning down the things he'd bought. Steve had never accepted anything from Timmy, and now he felt like an ass for it. "Mebbe only buy little things. I'm a poor, skinny kid from Brooklyn - ya don't gotta try so hard. Woulda been happy with a few colored pencils."

Steve wasn't prepared for the way Tony surged forward, and he almost startled back as a result. It was a damn good thing he didn't though, because a heartbeat later the other man's arms were wrapped around him in a hug that was too tight. Tight enough that it hurt his ribs, actually, but not enough to keep him from returning it just as hard. They held each other like that for a few seconds that were both too short and too long - it wasn't enough, but Steve was worried it would make him ask for more.

He'd thought they would talk after, but they didn't - Tony just gave him a small smile when he pulled back, then stood up and walked out of the room. Steve stared after him, at a complete loss as to what had happened. When he couldn't figure it out even a little, he shrugged and started to clean up the coffee table. Maybe it had been weird and confusing, but he'd _liked_ spending that time with Tony. It had been good to see him taking an interest in something. It had been great to see the bleak sorrow melt into something warmer.

It probably wouldn't last - Tony was all torn up inside. Steve suspected it was more than just the loss of JARVIS. Probably the next time he saw Tony the other man would be back to one word answers and thousand yard stares, but that was alright. Everyone needed time to grieve and work things out, and Steve wouldn't begrudge him that or try to take it away. It was just nice to know that Tony was still there under all of it; it was nice to feel like he was helping. 

Steve's ma had always told him that people needed other people, and he thought maybe Tony had been alone for too long.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> So this little vignette takes place the morning after the end of Chapter Three of Repair and Reconnect. It features Tony panicking, Tiny Adorable Steve being a little shit, and some fluffy cuddles.
> 
> Comments make me smile. <3

He could fucking do this.

Eggs were one of the easiest things to cook - children could prepare them, for fuck's sake. And yeah, maybe he'd sort of really messed them up that one time with Pep, but he'd been in full blown 'panic but don't let her see' territory, so that didn't count. Steve was having a bad morning - and it definitely didn't mean anything that it was happening the morning after they kissed for the first time, definitely not - and he'd been taking care of Tony for a while. It was his turn to do the caretaking, food was very important to Steve, and he could fucking make Steve some goddamned breakfast.

Despite the internal pep talk he kept giving himself, Tony still hadn't broken even a single egg. Dum-E, who was watching from about a foot away, kept making concerned little beeps. "You are not helping my performance anxiety, you bucket of bolts. If you could back up - yeah, I'm talking to you," he said when the bot whistled a question at him. "Back up. Just... no, that's the wrong way, and if you run over my foot I swear to God..." 

Tony hadn't fully realized how much he'd missed his boys until just then, but he was damned if he was going to start crying. Again. He probably would have if U was also in his face making a nuisance of himself, but his younger child was still in his charging station. With Dum-E he had a whole system to show his affection and emotion, so he didn't have to resort to such extreme measures. Tony could just brandish a spatula at him, the bot could give a mournful beep while backing away, and that was the end of it. Nothing messier than that, and he was fine again.

Well, not fine, because he was still fucking terrified to crack a goddamned egg, because he was fucking ridiculous. Scared of a chicken that hadn't even hatched yet. He'd faced down terrorists, aliens, murder-bots and his own death with only a few blinks and twitches, but a failed fucking poultry fetus had him freaking the fuck out. Thank God he wasn't Iron Man anymore or he'd have to quit from the shame of it. 

He could do this, dammit.

Except when he tried to break one open, he apparently didn't do it the right damn way, because he couldn't separate the shell into two parts without making a shit-ton of tiny fractures that then flaked off and landed right in the gooey egg insides that had finally slipped free. "Fuck!" Part of him knew it was an overreaction on his part, the way he threw the (thankfully plastic) bowl into the sink, swearing all the while, but it made him feel just a little, tiny bit better so he did it anyway.

"Tony?"

Shit. Shit shit shit. He'd clearly taken too long, because that was _Steve_ , voice all raspy and weak because the inhaler he'd been given had only helped a little that morning. Tony had wanted to be quick and helpful, wanted to do something for Tiny Adorable Steve as a 'thank you' for everything he'd done. For Pepper he'd at least managed several really terrible attempts at an omelette, but for Steve he hadn't even managed to crack a fucking egg properly. Frustrated and disgusted with himself, Tony didn't answer. He chose instead to grumble to himself about his uselessness as he slammed bowls and cutlery around like a fucking baby, because he was fucking stupid.

He didn't stop moving until he felt a splayed hand rest on his back; as soon as he did he doubled over and put both of his hands on the counter. "I wanted to make you breakfast," he muttered, the weight of this most recent failure piling on top of all the rest - it was a wonder he could even stand under all the pressure. "You've been taking care of me and I couldn't even make you a fucking egg."

They'd only kissed a few times the night before, they weren't even technically a thing, and he'd told himself repeatedly that he shouldn't really expect anything. No matter how much he might want from Tiny Adorable Steve, he needed to be completely prepared for it not to have meant anything. He had gone through all the ways that he would show Steve just how totally and completely fine he was if nothing more happened. He was ready for Steve to say 'thanks but no thanks' to him.

He had _not_ , in any way, prepared for what to do if Tiny Adorable Steve wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and leaned that tiny, adorable body into his own. Tony was not ready for Steve to press a kiss to the back of his neck, then hook that bony chin on his shoulder. This was... this was no part of any of the talks he'd been giving himself since the night before, and he just... he didn't know exactly what to do about it.

"I bet ya could if ya stopped thinkin' 'bout it so damn hard," Steve said, too-bony arms giving Tony's waist a light squeeze. "Try'n crack another one. Don't be so worried 'bout doin' it right, just get the sucker open."

"I didn't want there to be any shells in your eggs," Tony muttered, trying really hard to hold onto his tension, because what the fuck. "There's always shells when I do it. I was trying--"

"Stop tryin' so hard. 'S a egg, Tony, not the end-a the world or nothin'. 'S just breakfast."

"It's the most important meal of the day, and I keep fucking it up." Tony couldn't see Steve, but he was pretty damn sure that the guy was rolling his eyes. "Shut up, it's true."

"Didn't say nothin'."

"You were thinking something though."

"Thinkin' ya got too many thoughts in that head-a yours, yeah."

"I'm not good at this."

"Cookin'?"

"Being with someone. In a romantic capacity. No, you know what? Any capacity. I am terrible at the whole being with people in any kind of meaningful way. I try - I do, swear to God I try - but it just never... it's like I always miss the connection or something. I either don't do enough, or I do too much, and it never goes the way it's supposed to, and then everyone--" left, they always _left_ , but Tony couldn't make himself say the word out loud. It made it sound like it was their fault, but it wasn't - it was him and he knew it. He drove people away, had to _make_ children to love him--

"Hey Tony? Whatever ya got goin' on in that head-a yours stoppit. Stoppit'n crack one-a them eggs. Gettin' hungry'n ya said ya were gonna feed me."

"I can't--"

"Tony, it's a egg," Steve said into his neck before pressing another kiss against his skin. One of his arms unwound, and Tony watched him reach for one of the eggs from the corner of his eye. Sighing, he held out his own hand and let Tiny Adorable Steve hand off the harbinger of relationship doom. "Ate worse things than eggshells, ya know. Ya don't gotta try so hard ta make it perfect. Just tryin' at all's enough. Now break the damn egg'n cook for me."

"Steve..." Before he could get any further, Steve slid his hand around so his palm was pressed to the back of Tony's hand... and then he forced both of their hands closed in a move that shattered the egg shell and got gunk all over his hands. "Steve! That's so fucking gross, what the hell - no! Dum-E, that was not an invitation to-- get the fuck away from that fire extinguisher, or I swear - stop laughing, _Steven_ , this isn't funny!"

Well... it kind of was, even if he had cold, gross yellow gook dripping down his left hand and even if he was pretty sure Dum-E still might get that fire extinguisher and douse them both. He had spun himself into a fucking existential crisis over an _egg_ , for fuck's sake. It was _hilarious_... or at least it was when Steve was huffing out laughs that were at least a fourth cough onto his neck, fingers even colder than the shit coating both their hands. The way Dum-E was making dejected whistles at being denied his fun was ridiculous, as was the way that U began making noises of mild alarm when he wheeled into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about.

Tony did his best not to start laughing even if he sorely wanted to, however, because the little shit didn't need to know how amusing he found it all. He didn't want to encourage that kind of behavior, not when Steve clearly didn't need any kind of incentive. It was just really hard, especially when he saw Dum-E go for the fire extinguisher again only to have U charge in and get between it and his older brother. They began to 'argue', and his challenged eldest kept trying to get around U, but to no avail, and it was just. It was fucking funny in a way nothing had been in his life for a good long while.

So he had to laugh - he just had to. As a compromise, before he started he slipped his hand out of Steve's, lifting it quickly and planting it (gently) on Tiny Adorable Steve's cheek. "Ugh! Tony, that's so gross!" Steve whined through his continued laughter, trying to squirm away from his hand without letting go of Tony completely. "Get it offa me!"

Tony just laughed harder, rubbing the egg into Steve's skin for just a second before relenting. Part of him wanted to start an egg-fight... but Dum-E would get way too excited, U would lose his mind, and Steve would be furious at the expensive waste of it. Honestly, he was surprised that Steve had been willing to sacrifice even the one egg. It made him feel... special. Important. Steve wouldn't smash an egg for just anyone, he knew that much. Tony also knew he'd sound insane if he tried to articulate how warm and gooey Steve's destruction of one made him... and that was okay.

Nobody else needed to get it, not so long as he and Steve did.

Dum-E and U 'helped' them get clean, which meant that the process took a whole lot longer than it needed to and they both ended up with the front of their shirts soaked. Tony tried to get Tiny Adorable Steve to go put on a different one so he didn't catch a tiny, adorable bout of pneumonia, but the idiot wouldn't listen.

"'S too warm in here for me ta catch anythin'," Steve argued with his impeccable 40's era logic. "Lemme alone 'n cook for me."

Tony had a feeling that arguing with Tiny Adorable Steve was not exactly an easy thing to do, so he did indeed let it go. He let Steve plaster himself to Tony's back, arms around Tony's waist and that pointy chin of his digging into the crook of Tony's neck. It was kind of funny, how much easier that made cooking eggs. Maybe the shell didn't open perfectly, but Tony managed to dig out the one big piece of broken shell that had fallen into the bowl. Steve teased him into seasoning the attempt differently than he usually did, then made him add tomatoes, peppers, mushrooms, and some chopped up ham.

It was a whole damned _thing_ that took way longer than it would have if Steve had just let him make a regular, plain old omelette. But with Steve there to tell him when to do the flipping and turning and folding, the first attempt only turned a little brown around the edges. The second turned out pretty fucking perfect, and he decided to take it as a sign that maybe this wasn't all doomed to fail.

Even if he didn't get to keep Tiny Adorable Steve, maybe that wasn't the point. Maybe the tiny, adorable pain in the ass that was grinning and kicking his shins every few seconds had been right about that whole thing where just trying was important. Shit didn't need to turn out perfectly to make it worth it.

This thing with Steve? The thing that meant he got to watch as Steve let U carefully poke at the drawing he was doodling on a napkin, the thing where Steve cuddled up to Tony while he was trying to cook, the one that got him a sweet, clinging kiss before Steve vanished to his studio with U trailing behind him like a puppy? No matter how that thing (the thing that might turn into an actual _relationship_ if he kept trying) ended, it was totally and completely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Friends, I have a [Tumblr](http://tahlreth.tumblr.com) and it's pretty lame but I enjoy it. I almost never tag anything, it's completely random, and you can leave me prompts and such if you'd like. Stop by, stay awhile, say hi... whatever floats your boats. <3


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